The Journal of Grimsley
by Mori'sInsanity
Summary: Just another fabulous day in the life of this Elite gentleman...


[A/N: It's been quite a while since I've posted anything on here, but after coming up with this idea at 3 AM one night, I wanted to give this journal thing a try. I'll definitely be adding to this because these are incredibly fun...eue Anyways, here goes nothing!]

Entry 1

I'm not entirely sure why I've given in to this, but Shauntal has finally convinced me to start a journal of sorts - something about releasing the turmoil within one's mind. I couldn't exactly turn her down, though, because she went out and bought an empty composition book, which she promptly and stubbornly shoved into my unsuspecting hands. The cover depicts a Purrloin clinging precariously to a tree branch captioned, "Hang in there, baby!" The joke's on her. I bloody love Purrloins.

I suppose I should just write about the current happenings, as that's typically the way journals go. It's about 7:00 AM and I've fallen into an inescapable spiral of caffeine-less lethargy. Theoretically, a challenger could appear at any moment, but we haven't had one since the Team Plasma incident and very rarely do they begin the Elite 4 challenge with me - most challengers' first and last battles are with Shauntal. Nonetheless, were I to attempt a cunning temporary escape during work hours to purchase more tea, Alder would hunt me down and probably kill me.

I could ask Burgh to smuggle me some of this beautiful, life-sustaining beverage, but honestly, I think he's afraid of Hal, the E4 guard. (You know, the one who informs you of your probable doom in the entryway.) Hal couldn't even conceive the thought of hurting a fly, but he's paid to intimidate and intimidate he does. It's a shame - he's such a nice guy. Pleasant to chat with once you get to know him.

Someone is stomping into my room now, probably to tell me that if I sulk on this couch long enough, my muscles will decompose and I'll have to flop about as some sort of noodle for the rest of my life. Or something along those lines. They can threaten me with their ridiculous noodle threats as much as they'd like, I'm never moving again. I need some bloody caffeine.

I guess I'll pick this up again later. Possibly never. We'll see.

-Grimsley

* * *

Dear Grimsley,

You'd better believe you're picking it up again! Also, you really should keep this thing more well-guarded...it was practically _begging_ to be read.

Hugs!

-Shauntal

* * *

Entry 2

Well, there goes any illusion of privacy I previously held. I'll have to start hiding this damn thing now...

Today has been...eventful, to say the least. We're all standing outside the League because it's temporarily closed off, which is a bit of a long story which I may or may not have been unfairly blamed for.

You see, my Liepard can't stand being restricted in a Pokeball, and because she's a nocturnal creature, I let her wander around at night while everyone's asleep. Usually, she does typical Liepard things such as rolling in high places and trying to hunt through the glass window, but last night, she wanted to change things up, I suppose. Apparently, she felt the need to mark her scent on everything in the room by rubbing against all reachable surfaces. Unfortunately, Liepards don't understand physics, so she was quite startled when one of the lanterns fell over and set the rug on fire.

Naturally, she took the only logical defensive strategy of yowling, barreling away from the threat, digging her claws into my face and clinging there until the bads went away.

I don't know if you've ever tried to smother a fire in the dark before your eyes have adjusted while a mass of purple-and-yellow fur obstructs your vision and tears your flesh, but it's not an activity I would highly recommend. Eventually, I was able to use the rest of the rug to put it out, but not before the obnoxious fire alarm started screeching. I don't even know why we installed the bloody thing. If that had been a serious fire, we'd all be piles of ash before it realized, "Hey! There's a fire occurring and it might be a good idea to warn people of it, considering the fact that it's the only purpose of my existence and they're all going to die if I don't!"

Anyways, I think I've been forgiven by everyone because we have the rest of the day off...hooray? Well, everyone's over it except Caitlin, but she's just miffed that I woke her up. Maybe I'll head to Castelia, although it won't have its usual appeal. I've always favored the anonymity of crowds, but that's a bit difficult to maintain when you appear to have tested a cheese grater on your face. At least I'll be able to buy more tea.

-Grimsley

* * *

Entry 3

I didn't have a choice in the matter, but my hair smells delightful this evening. It's also very soft, and I didn't want to ruin this newfound silkiness by gelling it, so it's just flopped down almost to my shoulders. Did you really think it spiked up like that naturally? Of course you didn't, you're a journal. Silly.

These hair fumes are starting to get to me.

Earlier this morning I ended up going to Castelia after all, but it's been a week since the fire incident. My face is now a lovely collection of scabs. Very attractive. At least they're somewhat less noticeable. Anyways, I was going to head to the coffee shop located in the incredibly accessible and well-planned location of A Dark Corner in a Suspicious Alley first, but I ran into Burgh, who was holding a sketchbook and awkwardly crouching in front of a bush. Being the unfailingly kind and considerate friend that I am, I decided to express my mild concern at this unusual behavior (even to his standards). The following conversation went something along the lines of:

"Burgh...might I inquire why you're squatting in front of this bush?"

"Haha, nope! Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

Of course, I didn't close my eyes, nor did I hold out my hands. Honestly, how well has _that_ ever gone? He pouted for a second, then opened his hands to reveal several Joltik, causing me to thank Arceus for my initial refusal to comply. The little demon spawn stared at me, probably thinking, "I'm going to eat that human while he sleeps. Mmm, flesh." Burgh beamed and informed me that Castelia was having an outbreak of Joltik and they were helping with electrical conduction and oh gosh, weren't they just _adorable_?

No. They most certainly are not. Before I could tell him this, though, he pressed one into my hand and it crawled up my arm in blind panic. As to be expected, I emitted a very manly and appropriate noise of terror and smacked it off, causing Burgh to gasp and shower it in his ridiculous love while I tried unsuccessfully to compose myself. He just grinned and told me that I did better than last time and that I was probably starting to get over my fear a little. Maybe. Honestly, I don't know if I want to get over my "fear." It's perfectly rational and I consider it a defense mechanism...but Burgh has taken it upon himself to "cure" me, and I don't have the heart to stifle his determination.

I've been trying to rid myself of any deadly toxins the hideous thing might have rubbed off onto my skin and were now rapidly spreading, but after the fourth shower I ran out of shampoo and had to temporarily switch to Shauntal's, hence the abnormally flowery and silky hair. I'm not really sure how to feel about it, but admittedly it is a very pleasant smell.

-Grimsley


End file.
